


Dragged Away

by Rangergirl3



Series: Whumptober 2019 [6]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Gen, Keith (Voltron) Whump, Pidge | Katie Holt Whump, Platonic Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2020-12-13 20:35:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21003776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rangergirl3/pseuds/Rangergirl3
Summary: Pidge doesn't want to leave her friend's side.





	Dragged Away

After their capture, the Red and Green Paladins had been informed that there was a 'process' that subjects underwent before the hokril could be implanted.

It had been a nice word that these Alteans used to refer to the torture used to break down the subject's will.

Their captors wasted no time in beginning the process.

* * *

Fingers snatched at the collar of his Paladin armor, and before Keith even realized what was happening, one of the guards had kicked Keith's legs out from under him.

As Keith crashed onto the ground, Pidge tried to reach out for him, to help break his fall, but she was held back by the guards on either side of her.

"Keith! Keith, are you -"

The fall had knocked all the air out of Keith's lungs. He struggled for breath, unable to fight as the other two guards began dragging Keith away from Pidge, towards the center of the room.

After that, the pain began.

* * *

_Later, Keith couldn't really remember the details._

_He was fairly certain he'd tried to fight back, but the guards were very, very good at hurting him, and Hira excelled at just watching them do it._

_Kicks, cuts, bruises, broken bones._

_It all blurred together after awhile._

* * *

In order for the hoktril process to be successful after someone reached maturity, the person had to _ask_ for it.

That meant the only way to make someone like Keith ask for the hoktril was to break them.

These Alteans may have prided themselves on using advanced technology to do it, but the truth was very, very ugly.

They used torture to get what they wanted, just like every evil empire did.

The Alteans knew that, but that didn't stop them from taking steps to accomplish their goal.

In their twisted worldview, the lack of dissension meant that a state of perfection had been reached.

And, in their minds, that meant that anyone who dissented were broken, and that meant, they had to be _fixed_.

* * *

After what felt like an eternity, the guards stopped just long enough for Hira to inject some kind of drug into Keith's neck.

As she knelt at his side, one of his eyelids flickered, but did not open. Pidge desperately hoped that her friend would remain unconscious, but the Alteans had no such mercy in mind.

"This will keep you...how shall I say it..._present_," Hira said, withdrawing the syringe and standing back up. "No rest for you, I'm afraid. Not until you beg us for the hoktril."

As the drug began to race through his system, Keith's body shuddered, and he finally began to scream.

There weren't words. 

It was just _noise_.

Pidge cried, desperately wishing she were deaf, but now that she had heard it, she knew that she would never, _ever_ be able to forget that sound. 

It was despair, and terror, and agony all mixed into one sound, and if she lived through this, she would spend the rest of her life trying to forget it.

Hira just smiled at the sound.

"Finally," she said. "_Now_ we're getting somewhere."

* * *

* * *

To Pidge, it felt like ages until the Guns of Gamara came, and even longer until they gave Keith some kind of antidote to what Hira had given him. 

It didn't take effect right away.

* * *

* * *

_It hurts. Please, make it stop. Please, stop._

A hand grips his, and Keith holds onto it, desperately wishing for someone to help him.

_Please. Please. Please. It hurts. It hurts It hurts It hurts_

Someone with glasses leans over him, says his name.

Keith can't answer. Words just won't come to him.

He tries, though, when the palm of someone's hand comes to rest against the side of his face.

_Help me. Please. Help me. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts._

In the end, all he can do is keen wordlessly, weakly, and hope that maybe, this time, someone will listen.

_No one has before._

Blackness whirls at the corners of his vision. Relief washes over him, just before it washes over him and finally allows him to rest.

_They listened._

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! <3 Comments always, always make my day! :-) Honestly, they do, I absolutely LOVE to hear what readers enjoyed, which parts hit them the hardest, it's really encouraging and wonderful to read your comments and it helps me to write even MORE stuff!! <3 <3
> 
> I'm on Tumblr, come say hi! <3


End file.
